If you read my last post, you might be feeling bad for us right now. Please do not despair, we have found a strange little refuge on Dataw Island: where the upper-class people get to live in quiet security and play golf until they fall over and die. A seriously heavenly place for the people who dream of unlimited golfing, tennis, yachting (it’s not called boating here, it’s called yachting), swimming pools, jacuzzi bathing, and even croquet on brilliant green manicured lawns framed with palm trees and live oaks with their Spanish moss hanging like bits of fancy sea green lace. The only requirement to live here is that people must always wear white croquet outfits! And the only danger here is sending your golf ball flying into one of the little ponds and actually trying to retrieve it. You can lose a hand! Hmmm, but what creature could be doing this?!
Is it a rabid dolphin?
Or maybe there is something special monster on this island, just to keep the golfers on their toes?
Okay, I’ll tell you – it’s just a wee old alligator. Yes, they live with alligators. Alligators who apparently lose their way during the warmer months and end up in private pools or garages or even homes! What fun! Upper-class alligators!
The only other danger here might be the guy who continuously upgrades his gold cart in order to win the golf cart RACES they have here. Chris Huber. Seriously, this rouge man sped by us one day and disappeared around a bend faster than any car! (Well, maybe not that fast, but smaller things look faster…don’t they?)
Rob and I, or mostly me, were a little nervous about coming here to visit my Uncle Richard, but Richard and his wife Valerie have taken us in like the cute little strays that we are. They’ve given us a hotel-style bedroom and private bath, and unlimited laundry! They’ve also taken us to restaurants and shown us the nature sites around the island (which are also amazing, and more to our liking than the golfing). I’ve gone running and tried to spy on the alligators in the ponds but they are in hiding right now. I bet they have little condos to snuggle into down there. With fireplaces, of course!
We were also a little nervous about the Chihuahua we heard lived here. I mean, really, is that even a dog? All 8 pounds of it? We discovered delight in the little creature named Daisy, though. And she smells just as doggie as my Willow, which comforts me in his absence.
Uncle Richard and a live oak tree that is over 400 years old. Amazing tree that guards the cemetery where the old owners of Dataw Island’s plantation are buried.
The thick arm of the old oak, spreading itself over the graves and covered in Spanish moss. I think I could handle being laid down beneath this view forever.
Uncle Richard with Daisy! I thought he looked like a cross between my father and a young Santa Claus! Here he might be saying, “Look at what YOU could have under your Christmas tree!”
In the vein of showing older men with doggies, and so you can get a look at my daddy, here here is with Willow on top of our favorite NH mountain:
My dad looks a bit like a stray here, too, but I think one week on Dataw Island will clean him up good! If you want some more fun, please listen to the country song: “Redneck Yacht Club” and gaze at this picture of my daddy. It’s funny also because he really is NOT a redneck at all (yes, he can play golf with the best of them, though I think he might not be as adept at racing golf carts – in my head, I see my poor mother flying out the side of one as he races around a tight corner! Ah!).
Anyways – we will be leaving this heavenly place as soon as the wind is right. Stay tuned for further adventures…